


fight for their mistakes

by virgilsjourney (jenna221b)



Series: Sanders Sides Ficlets [17]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deceit's 'room', Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Into The Woods reference, Magic Mirrors, Protectiveness, The Snow Queen - Freeform, deceit is a villain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/virgilsjourney
Summary: Roman is staring at him with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, how do you think he got into my room?”Virgil tries to stand up, knees shaking. “I...” He remembers the snake in the wardrobe, telling him it wasn’t his world. “I didn’t think,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”--------------------sequel to ask no questions, hear no lies





	fight for their mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: emotional manipulation/abuse; doubting what’s real; Deceit as a villain; brief mention of blood & eye injury

Virgil feels his whole world tilting. All he can hear is Roman’s words, echoing over and over again.  _You too? You too? You... too?_

“What...” Virgil blinks slowly, shaking his head. “What are you talking about?” He’s gripping onto his bed’s headboard for support, feeling abruptly as if he’s lost at sea. 

Roman is staring at him with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, how do you  _think_ he got into my room?”

Virgil tries to stand up, knees shaking. “I...” He remembers the snake in the wardrobe, telling him it wasn’t his world. “I didn’t think,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s- Virgil.” Roman steps away from the door. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, that wasn’t what I-”

“How long?” Virgil says, clenching his teeth as he hears a dark whisper.

_Dangerous territory, Virgil._

“What?”

“How long?” Virgil repeats, nodding towards the door. 

Roman runs a hand through his hair. “It’s... it’s always been like... always.”

Virgil has no idea what to say.

“And... and you?” Roman asks.

“A-always,” Virgil echoes.

Roman opens his mouth, some sort of strangled, uncertain noise escaping, but they both jump at the sound of a door slamming shut. Virgil turns his head. The entrance to his room. Their way out.

“No,” he whispers, and then he’s tripping over his own feet to wrench the handle open, but it stays stuck fast. Trapped. They’re trapped; they’re trapped; they’re...

“No, no, no, no, no,” Virgil says, over and over, faster and faster, and then he’s banging on the door, not caring how much it hurts his hand. “ _God!_ ”

“Virgil, stop it!” 

Arms around him, trying to pull him away, but Virgil kicks out and-

The lights flicker and die, then relight with a ghostly blue. It’s cold, colder than it’s ever been before. Virgil can see ice creeping over the carpet like veins, even though that’s  _impossible._

Roman shudders. Virgil watches their breaths appear in the air like smoke, intertwining.

“We’re- we’re _trapped_ , Roman,” Virgil says. He fights to keep his panic at bay, trying to only focus on the facts.

Roman’s breathing is shaky- Virgil can tell just from looking at the puffs of air in front of him. “There’s- there’s a way out.” He walks over, goes back to the wall, and pushes open  _that_  door.

Virgil shakes his head. “Too risky. And how- how do you know for sure?”

Roman laughs, but it ends on a harsh cough. “I’m  _never_  sure.”

Virgil sees Roman’s lips turning blue, the way his arms tremble with goosebumps. He knows they can’t stay here.

He stands next to Roman and, together, they take the first step inside the corridor. The door abruptly closes behind them with a dull finality, and they are plunged into darkness. Virgil jumps.

Somewhere beside him he hears an intake of breath, then quiet laughter. “ _Ow_ , that was my foot.”

“S-sorry.”

“No, it’s-” Virgil feels a warm hand hold his own. “It’s fine.” Roman tuts, squeezing Virgil’s hand again. “You’re shaking.”

Virgil laughs. “So are you.”

“Well... true.”

They take a few steps forward, still holding hands. Virgil strains to see anything, but only darkness remains. 

“So, what are we actually... where are we going?”

For a moment, he expects Roman to say that he doesn’t have a plan. But then: “My room.”

“But... how?”

Roman sighs. “I’ve seen this corridor, too, I- it’s just like... I’m assuming they’re connected.”

Virgil silently fills in the missing gaps in Roman’s speech, and stops in his tracks. To think, all this time he thought he was alone when perhaps, if he kept going down the corridor and ignored Deceit’s door... he’d find home.

“You never said,” Virgil says.

“ _You_ never said,” Roman replies, and Virgil has to admit, he has a point. 

Virgil is about to try and bring a smile to the moment, opening his mouth to say something like how they’re both self-sacrificial idiots, when he’s suddenly blinded by a piercing white light. He cries out, trying to shield his eyes with both hands, but Roman’s grip holds tight. 

“Virgil,” he shouts, right in his ear, “Don’t let go! Whatever you do, don’t-”

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the light goes. But, they’re not left in total darkness- the cold blue light returns, and Virgil blinks repeatedly, as he stares at what can only be... himself. Roman’s free hand reaches out slowly, and Virgil hears it tap against something.

“Mirrors,” Roman mutters. He scoffs. “They’re just mirrors, Virgil, they’re only...”

But, for some reason, that doesn’t make Virgil feel at all at ease. He stares as his own reflection shimmers oddly, as if it’s been distorted in a lake. And, suddenly, Logan’s voice comes back to him:

_“For he had made a mirror...”_

Roman lets go of Virgil’s hand, gently knocking all over the glass, now. “There must be something, perhaps a hidden exit-”

_“...with the power of causing all that was good and beautiful when it was reflected therein, to look poor and mean...”_

“Roman,” Virgil calls. “Roman, get away from there!”  

Roman pauses, hands still raised over the glass. “But, it’s just-”

Virgil sees a flash of yellow in his reflection’s eyes, and then, it’s not that at all- but a snake, ready to strike-

“Don’t look at it!” he yells, and Roman turns to look at him, eyes narrowing in confusion. 

“But, why n-”

The mirror explodes. Virgil throws himself to the floor, bringing his arms up to cover his head, as shards of glass rain upon them. Miraculously, he isn’t cut. Eventually, when everything falls silent, Virgil stands, wincing at the noise of glass crunching underneath his feet. He freezes as he sees Roman, hunched over on the ground, one hand covering his face.

“Roman!” He kicks aside the glass on the floor, giving them space to sit together. “Are you okay, god, please say you’re...”

His voice dies as Roman’s head rises to look at him, his hand falling to reveal:

Roman’s left eye, bloodshot, a spot of blood leaking out at the corner like a tear-

“Oh my god,” Virgil says.

Roman groans. “It hurts, Virgil, it...”

“I’ll fix it, I promise I’ll fix it, oh god,  _Roman_ , I’m sorry-”

But Roman just blinks and blinks until tears have washed away the blood, and suddenly, he’s scrambling backwards as if burned, breathing heavily.

_“You,”_  Roman snarls. 

“What-?”

Out of nowhere, a sword shimmers in the air between them and Roman leaps up to catch it. More mirrors spring into being all around them. 

“Last warning,” Roman says, voice filled with cold, deadly intent. “What have you done with Virgil?”

Virgil doesn’t know how to feel, his heart both leaping to hear Roman’s protectiveness over  _him_ , but sinking with the thought of what Roman must be seeing. 

“Roman, it’s- Roman, please.” Virgil hovers, torn between where to run as Roman raises his sword. “I-it’s  _me_. Roman, it’s-”

With a cry of rage, Roman swings his sword. Virgil ducks just in time, as the sword cracks another mirror instead. Roman drops it with a clatter, falling to his knees.

“No,” he’s whispering. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, oh God...”

Slowly, like approaching a wounded animal, Virgil picks up the sword and moves it away from Roman. He crouches in front of him, and only then sees that Roman’s looking at another distorted reflection, in another mirror.

Virgil watches the thing play out like a horrible silent film, as a furious Roman strikes down a pale imitation of himself with his sword. He watches himself fall, and lie still, the mirror Roman celebrating in his victory.

“What have I done?” Roman says, a low, grieving moan. “I- I didn’t- I’m sorry, I...  _Virgil._..”

“Close your eyes,” Virgil says softly. “It’s not real, Roman, listen to me. You wouldn’t- it’s not real.”

Roman’s eyes close, but tears still spill out. “I-I wish... I wish...”

“I know,” Virgil soothes. And then, the idea comes to him. He knows how Deceit gets his power from imitating people. It’s all in what  _Deceit_ expects the other person will do, everything based on his own predictions.

Virgil knows he won’t expect this. It’s achingly sentimental, a little embarrassing, maybe, but Virgil doesn’t care. He has to prove he’s still here. This is for Roman.

“ _People makes mistakes_ ,” he tries. His voice is hoarse, cracking dreadfully, but he has to keep going, filling his lungs up with the energy to sing. “ _Holding to their own, thinking they’re alone_.” He can’t remember the words fully or the right order, but he can’t stop, not when Roman is depending on him.

“ _No-one is alone. Someone is on your side... no-one is alone_.”

Roman slowly opens his eyes, and smiles. “ _Our_  side,” he says, his voice carrying just the whisper of a song. 

Virgil looks deep into his eyes, searching, wondering if he should get Roman to close them again. “The glass...?”

Roman’s smile grows. His eye is still pink around the edges, but tears are falling down both of his cheeks. “It fell out,” he says.

_Kay burst into tears; he wept so much that the splinter rolled out of his eye..._

“How do you know for sure?”

Roman laughs, a small, breathy sound. He reaches forward to hold Virgil’s hand without fear. “I can see  _you,_  Virgil.”

**Author's Note:**

> this decided to split itself into probably three parts now sjhglhg SORRY <3


End file.
